


Blood & Breath: Our Becoming

by A_Harper (A_Kristjansson), A_Kristjansson



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Cute, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Smut, Hannibal has sass, M/M, Murder, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Romance, murdering dynamic duo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2020-07-28 17:57:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Kristjansson/pseuds/A_Harper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Kristjansson/pseuds/A_Kristjansson
Summary: "Can't live with him, can't live without him."Will Graham remembers Bedelia's words to him as he plunges Hannibal and himself over the edge of the bluff and into the raging waters underneath. He doesn't feel as he hits the water, only knowing Hannibal's touch until he is ripped away from him and forced to confront their survival.Waves crash over the men until Will manages to bring them to shore on a beach the current dragged them to. Their first kill as a duo happens almost immediately, and with the monetary spoils, they reach a hotel - Will loses consciousness only fifteen minutes later.When he awakes, he's in a hospital and Hannibal is by his side, sleeping in an uncomfortable waiting chair. As he looks around the rest of the whitewashed room, he's forced to encompass his becoming and the new life he and Hannibal Lecter are about to live.





	1. After the Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Comments fuel my creativity so if you like my work, please say so ^3^
> 
> Also if you're in the mood for more of my writing, please check out my Wattpad for my original stories, my username is on my description ^^

"Hannibal!" Will called out desperately when he came up for air in the raging water, swept under by the current again.

The pain in his face was too much to bear but he pushed it to the side. He understood in that moment that he and Hannibal were meant to survive and he had to find him before they were both lost to the sea. He had to find him.

Hannibal didn't reply to his call so Will searched in the darkness for any sign of the older man, only seeing white horses and black depths.

"Hannibal, where are you!?"

He couldn't have drowned, he was stronger than Will and he had come up with barely a broken wrist to show for his fall. Or maybe he was still in shock and just couldn't feel the extent of his injuries yet. Black crashed over him as he continued his search, fighting past the pain in his jaw and shoulder until he saw the faint outline of the man he had dragged to the sea.

"Hannibal!"

Will swam as fast as he could through the waves that fought back, reaching the silver-haired man and grabbing onto his shoulders, laughing with relief as Hannibal looked at him.

"You know, I think driving away in that police car would have been easier than throwing us in the Atlantic, Will."

Despite the irritated lilt in his Lithuanian voice, Hannibal smiled a rare smile at the younger, making Will forget where they were in favour of crushing his mouth against his.

The kiss was rough and needy and encompassed everything that they experienced together. Everything that they should have said and would say in the future, hatred and fear and pure, unconditional love. It allowed both of them a moment to understand each other and how they felt for each other, the darkest parts of themselves melding together and choiring in satisfaction at the discovery of someone to understand, someone to love, someone to be there.

Then the waves were crushing them again, breaking their kiss and pulling their embrace apart, taking them underneath.

Will panicked the second they were separated, fighting back against the water and regretting his action to pull them in. He should have realised their destiny before almost killing them. He had to get them both to shore.

In the distance, he saw the land sparkle and realised there was a beach close to them.

"Hannibal, I see land!" He yelled out to the other, grabbing onto him when he came back up and struggling against the waves to get them both to shore.

The men collapsed onto the sand when they reached it, crawling further up the land so that the Atlantic current couldn't catch them again. Will fell against Hannibal's chest and laughed breathlessly in the amazement of the moment. He gripped at Hannibal's shirt, laughing hard and feeling a rumble underneath him, finding that the older man was laughing too.

Will had never heard Hannibal laugh like that, only ever hearing small chuckles or snorts. But now, this was a full, meaningful laugh. He couldn't help but smile at that, trying to sit up and holding a hand over his rapidly swelling cheek.

Taking in their surroundings, he felt the sand underneath him and wondered how far out the current had dragged them. There wasn't a beach at the bottom of the cliff, so they weren't there anymore. He stared at the darkness behind him, seeing more and more sand in the distance.

They were definitely on a beach, and the lights in the distance proved it must be a populated area. Will was thankful for that, and he only hoped that the hotel in town wouldn't ask any questions when they stumbled in bleeding. He kept his bank cards in the sole of his shoe, so there would be no need to worry about money for the moment.

"Hannibal, Hannibal we're on a public beach. We should move, come on." His voice was beginning to sound muffled as the swelling in his face increased.

He stood up weakly, stumbling a bit as he helped Hannibal up too, realising that he was probably less likely to be able to walk with his torso injury.

Both bleeding and stumbling, Will and Hannibal made their way up the beach, reaching a stone staircase that led up to the town and helping each other equally to get up the steps. When they made it onto soft grass, Will tugged his credit card out of his shoe, making Hannibal speak up.

"We can't use that, Will, they'll be tracking any payments we make from cards. Come on."

Will, now unable to speak from the swelling of his face, following the older man to where he ran up to a stranger with weak movements.

"Excuse me, me and my husband have been attacked, he needs help!" Hannibal told them in desperation, making the two other men frown and help Will immediately.

Neither used their phones to call the police, a good sign. They didn't know who he and Hannibal were, so no police reports had been on the news. This gave them a bit of time.

Will was half grateful for the help he was given by the strangers, but only as far as they were nice. When the couple took Will and Hannibal into an alleyway to get away from prying eyes and dangerous townfolk, apparently, Will noticed the knife in one guy's hand as he attempted to stab Hannibal. The brunette was already there though, silent with his injury as he grabbed the man with the knife and stabbed his thumbs into his eyes, making him yell out in pain and scream, dropping the knife which Hannibal caught and used to slice into the other man's carotid artery in his neck. Blood spurted from the wound in an even manner as Will ripped it out again, letting the man's body drop like a stone.

So much for helping us, Will thought to himself as Hannibal searched the men's jackets for wallets. Finding at least two hundred dollars in cash between them, he smirked faintly when he saw the little slip of paper in one of the wallets, containing the pin number for the debit card in the wallet.

"Not all homophobes are smart, dear Will."

Will's eyes widened momentarily. He hadn't realised they were homophobic until Hannibal said that, only now seeing the possibility that they could have been attacked for Hannibal's claim that they were married. His first experience of homophobia and he hadn't even noticed until someone was going to hurt Hannibal.

He stared on as Hannibal took the men's phones as well, throwing one to Will who caught it with strained ease.

"These will be useful for staying in contact if we're separated, they won't track phones they don't know we're using."

Will nodded faintly, smiling when Hannibal did.

"You saved me."

Will nodded again, groaning in response when Hannibal kissed him again with gratitude before dragging the bodies of the two men into the shadows. He came back with the money and cards they needed from them, smiling at Will.

"We'll stay in a hotel for tonight, Will, you need rest."

Will's heart strained at the thoughtful tone Hannibal used and he leaned into him as they started walking to the local hotel across the road with the red-lit sign. He wanted to tell Hannibal to get bandages first, to clean his wounds, to help himself before he helped Will, but he could only stay silent in his secure embrace as they entered the hotel and approached the front desk through the bar. He tried to ignore the stares and gasps at the state of the two men, limping his way to the hotel owner with more help from Hannibal.

"Are you two gentlemen okay? Should I call an ambulance?" The owner saw the injury on Will's face, he could tell, because he touched his own face out of fear, probably wondering how painful it must be to be stabbed there.

Will didn't react to him, just shut his eyes and leaned into Hannibal who leaned on the bar to keep them both steady.

"We just need a room for the night, please- Will!"

The brunette only heard Hannibal's faded voice yell to him in the distance as he passed out, collapsing to the floor underneath them.


	2. Water and Roses

_ “Can’t live with him, can’t live without him.” _

_ “You righteous, reckless, twitchy little man.” _

_ “He might as well cut all of our throats and be done with it.” _

_ “This is all I ever wanted for you, Will.” _

The next time Will woke up, he was affronted by white light that blinded him. For a moment he forgot that he had survived the fall, and wondered if he was in heaven - but as quickly as that thought came, it disappeared again, because he remembered who he was and what he had done. If heaven and hell existed, he was sure he’d end up in the latter eventually.

When his blue eyes managed to focus past the invading source of light, he was no more comforted by his true location than he would have been by heaven.

The hospital room was completely white, with only a red stripe of paint crossing the centre of the wall all around the room. A single bed room, he observed sleepily, gaze casting over the fake-plastic wardrobe and the large window to his left. When he looked in that direction, he found Hannibal asleep on what looked like a very uncomfortable chair, head lolled forward, likely putting strain on his neck.

Will watched him for a moment, wondering how such a messed up person could look so peaceful, but he figured he couldn’t judge the messy insides of Hannibal Lecter’s mind, when he himself was just as bad, possibly worse.

“Will.”

So high off the morphine drip attached to his arm, the brunette wasn’t sure if he had imagined Jack Crawford’s voice saying his name. He lifted his head, turning it to look towards the voice and seeing the hazy outline of his once boss standing by the hospital room door, hands in the pockets of his beige trench coat.

“Jack?”

“How are you feeling, Will?” Crawford stepped closer to his bed and Will recoiled on instinct, wondering if he was real.

The edges of his figure were still fuzzy and he couldn’t see his face but it felt like he was standing there. He fumbled for bed rail that was still lifted, realising he was handcuffed to it.

He knew then that Jack was real, and he and Hannibal had been located. They would send them both to the cell that Hannibal had once spoken to him through. No. They would likely separate the two men so they didn’t have any contact to plan an escape, or maybe just to break them down so they would apologise for their actions.

Will couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at the thought of Hannibal apologising, or himself apologising for that matter. It would never happen. No matter how much the FBI, or Baltimore, or Jack Crawford tried, they wouldn’t apologise.

“Well done, Jack. You caught us fast. How long do you think you can keep us?”

He observed the tightening of Jack’s lips as he spoke.

“We didn’t catch you fast, Will. You’ve been in this hospital for a week. Quite a lot of injuries you had, you and Hannibal. Care to tell me what happened to you both?”

Will hummed in response to that, carefully sitting up and being certain not to wince at the pain he was in. He didn’t want to show weakness in the face of such righteously good people.

“The FBI, especially you, Jack, is incredibly resourceful. How did you find Hannibal and I?”

No visible reaction to Will’s ignoring of his question, just the same tight-lipped appearance of his best poker face. It made Will smile, almost manically, before he heard Hannibal speak.

“Will.”

He turned to him, only to see the man on the chair still asleep. Will frowned, confused.

“Hannibal…” He reached his hand out towards him, touching his knuckles lightly only to see blood start to leak from Hannibal’s nose.

Panic blossomed in his chest when the same blood started dripping from his eyes. He tried to move, tried to help him, tried to reach out and wake him up.

“Will.” Jack’s voice again.

“Will!”

_ Hannibal. _

He moved his neck rapidly to see the door. Jack was gone. He was alone. Almost getting whiplash from how fast he moved again, Will turned back to Hannibal. He was gone too.

There was a sloshing sound below the bed and he looked to see water rising in the room. Black liquid, like the waves of the Atlantic crashing over them as they fell to the sea from the bluff. Rising and hitting the walls and the bed, the rose of panic in Will’s chest deepening in its red colour, growing thorns and stabbing into his heart, his lungs, his stomach.

“Will, wake up!”

“Mr Graham, can you hear me!?”

“Will!”

He bolted upright in bed suddenly, realising he was covered in sweat as he hyperventilated from fright.

“Will, it was a nightmare, it wasn’t real. Take deep breaths.” He could hear Hannibal’s voice beside him, using a soothing, comforting tone that made breathing easier.

He raised his eyes to see another shadow in the room, a female nurse standing at the side of the bed. Eventually, his breathing slowed and his vision became clear again. He looked to Hannibal who smiled at him.

“Jack.”

“Uncle Jack hasn’t found us, Will. We’re in a local hospital, they aren’t going to call the police, I’ve made sure of it. Lie back.” He told him and Will let himself be guided back against the plethora of pillows collected and stuffed behind his head.

He sunk into the comfort of their softness, sighing and looking to Hannibal.

“Did I pass out?”

“Indeed, but that was three days ago. Since then, the hospital has taken care of us very well. Though I regret to inform you that you lost teeth due to your knife wound. They’ve been replaced with natural implants though and your shoulder is just fine.” He smiled at him, touching his cheek gently which made Will lean into him.

The real morphine drip attached to his hand took him down into the pillow, making the edges of his vision blur and darken as he started to fall asleep again.

He wondered momentarily for how long he would be unconscious again, feeling heavy like a weight and sensing the hospital blanket being lifted further up his body, placed just above his shoulders so that he was more comfortable. The darkness began to consume him as he reached out for Hannibal’s wrist, completely aware of their skin contacting as he ran his fingers over the man’s pulse, feeling the life underneath the thin layer covering his veins.

“Hannibal…” His voice was soft, weak, like an injured dog pleading for attention from its owner.

He needed reassurance, needed something to tell him he would be okay. That Hannibal wouldn’t leave, that the FBI wouldn’t catch them.

All he received was a hand over his own, the rough calluses of the older man’s fingertips tracing the bones underneath his own pale skin. The thumb stroked over his flesh person suit, making him feel like he was made of nothing but jelly.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up.” He heard the last of his deep voice before he was swarmed by the black waves of his nightmares, cold water washing over his eyes and dragging him into the depths of sleep, his hand still held by his friend.


	3. Sausages For Breakfast

“Will.”

Will Graham arose from the darkness of sleep to find himself on a real bed, plush crimson pillows underneath his head and shoulders, and a thick, soft duvet pulled up to just below his stomach. The scent of sausage, eggs and hash browns made his nose twitch as he opened heavy eyelids, seeing the fuzzy outline of Hannibal’s head and shoulders before the outline turned to a clear image and he could see the man’s face.

Hannibal appeared tired in the light of the window beside the bed, a smile hidden behind his hard, practiced demeanour of quiet disinterest. The flicker of a soft, caring man showed behind his mask as Will stared at him, still tired despite having slept for five days after passing out in the hospital.

“This isn’t the hospital.”

A small, fond chuckle escaped Hannibal at Will’s statement of the obvious and he reached a hand out to move the man’s hair away from his eyes.

“You’re right, it’s not. I was able to move you yesterday from the hospital. Your injuries had healed enough for transport and I thought you’d be more comfortable in a proper bed.”

Will looked at him, finding it strange how different the man was once he had been separated from his psychiatrist persona. He let out a small huff of laughter, accepting the help Hannibal offered when he tried to sit up and settling comfortably with the cushions behind his back.

“I half expected you to say we moved from the hospital only to avoid being caught.”

Hannibal looked at him now, no prior notion of his thoughts gracing his expression.

“It was one of many things I considered in my decision. However, in our current predicament, my only concern is your comfort. I have no care for the attentions of Jack Crawford or the FBI, only for you and your company.”

That made a weak smile cross Will’s face, and his storm-blue eyes cast down to the slight smudges of blood on the outside of his right thumb. Something primal licked at his insides and he reached down with his own hand, running his thumb over the blood stains. Hannibal didn’t tense underneath him, only watched their hands as they slowly intertwined in a comfortable embrace.

“You’ve been hunting. Someone not to your liking in the hospital, I presume?”

“Regrettably, the men who attacked us in the alleyway had already spoiled when I went to dispose of them. However, there was one nurse who gazed with much distaste when I sat by your side and held your hand in mine. Even more so when I kissed your knuckles. So we’re having sausage for breakfast.” The older man explained with a kind smile, making Will smile as well.

He was so far gone into the depths of Hannibal’s mind that the idea of eating the young woman he mentioned seemed like fair play. He had become Dr Lecter, much darker than Dr Lecter, and being with him in the capacity of his own preferences of life gave Will a warm feeling inside.

He felt like he was home.

“It smells delicious. Is there orange juice too?”

His casual reaction to death of an innocent young woman made his counterpart smile, and Hannibal nodded with a laugh.

“There is. I’m thankful that you’re feeling better. Nothing has ever pained me more than watching you sleep and being woken in the night when you have nightmares. I’m so glad that you’ve woken up, Will.”

“I am too.” Will smiled faintly, taking Hannibal’s hand as he helped him out of bed.

He could feel the grease making his hair stick to his forehead and the supple moisture of his now healing facial scar. His injury wasn’t swelling anymore and had healed over in the many days since the fall, his shoulder able to now make small movements. He grasped at Hannibal’s hand when he helped him stand, stumbling slightly.

Will then noticed how much of his weight he was putting on Hannibal and eased off a bit, only to stumble again and be caught by the other man. He frowned, trying to shrug him off.

“You were injured too, helping me could hurt you-”

“I wasn’t as hurt as you, now just accept the help I’m offering.” Hannibal scolded gently, forcing Will to put his weight on him again and leading him through to the kitchen where he had set up a table with a vase of red, yellow and blue flowers adding colour to the white table cloth underneath.

Will wasn’t sure why he felt emotion from the display of delicious food, or from Hannibal adding flowers to the table, but tears stung the back of his eyes and used his good arm to bring Hannibal’s face closer to his and kissed him gently.

Killing and betraying each other was put on hold in the domestic setting, making Will’s need for affection come through as he gripped tightly onto Hannibal’s shirt, cheeks already wet with tears.

Alana was wrong. Hannibal was good for him. They could be unstable together, not needing to judge one another for wrongdoings or horrible crimes. What would one nurse’s death really change in the world? Make it less rude? Wouldn’t that make humanity better off without her.

Will thought about this as Hannibal sat him down and he took a bite of the sausages on his plate, seasoned just perfectly and burned just the right amount to make the perfect sausage.

“This is delicious, thank you.”

He saw Hannibal smile as he took a bite of his own sausage.

“I remember you said those exact words the first time I made you breakfast. What else was that you said? ‘I don’t find you that interesting’, and look where we are now.” He smirked at him and Will rolled his eyes, gulping down some orange juice.

He couldn’t help watching as Hannibal licked the grease off of his thumb, gulping out of pure curiosity. Being eaten by the man had never appeared so appealing than it did right then. He licked his own lips to wet them, nervous now.

He was the prey in this scenario, and although Hannibal didn’t seem to want to kill him anymore, the flicker of desire behind his maroon eyes showed he was still hungry for a taste of the brunette. 

Will took a bite of his eggs this time, wondering what would happen to him after breakfast.


	4. Marshmallows Can Bring Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was going to have smut, and then I got really soft when I watched Wrath of the Lamb again, and so it turned to fluff.
> 
> There'll be smut eventually, but enjoy this little small smut into fluffy angst chapter ^^

“Hannibal.”

“Hm?” Maroon eyes flickered up to look at Will, a small, knowing smile etched onto the older’s face.

Will felt his face heat up from both fury and desire, hating how weakened he was by the gaze of his worst enemy. Was Hannibal his worst enemy? He used to be. He wasn’t sure if it was still true.

He kept his eye contact for a long two minutes, licking his lips from the uncertainty of it all, and to lick away the remnants of sausage grease on his lips. Then he looked back down at his food.

“Never mind.”

“Mylimasis…”

A purring sound met his ears and he heard soft footsteps as Hannibal moved over to him to hold his face in his large hands. His eyes flickered up to look at him and the blush under his skin only got worse. The man smiled kindly at him but his eyes were dark, like he knew what Will had been thinking. The brunette gulped.

“What are you thinking about, Will?”

Will didn’t know what came over him, or what mind game he had fallen prey to, but he made his thoughts very clearly known to the man.

“You and me,” He licked his lips, “fucking.”

Hannibal just smiled as Will acknowledged what he’d told him, face burning.

“You sinful, gorgeous man.”

A faint squeak made it out of Will’s mouth before his lips were covered and he was moaning already against the man in front of him. Gentle fingers touched under his chin to keep him in place. They only separated when Hannibal helped Will up from his chair, kissing him again.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Will couldn’t help scoffing at his statement, finding it the most contradictory thing about Hannibal - his need to keep Will safe from harm while still desiring to injure him in many ways. But he didn’t want to ruin the affectionate moment, merely touching the pulse in Hannibal’s wrist and pressing his lips to his cheek.

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you.” His voice was barely a whisper and it made the older pull him to the bedroom, Will’s heart racing as he did.

The brunette found himself pinned to the bed and his vision faltered as he saw the coal-black Wendigo figure crawling up between his legs. In the past, he would have feared the sight of the antlered shadow, but now it brought comfort, and he wrapped his arms around the neck, brought out of his alternate vision at the feeling of Hannibal’s rough skin.

Hannibal’s fingers traced down the centre of his throat before his hands were tearing at his boxers, violet silk to pertain to the man’s tastes. Kisses were pressed to every inch of his skin and Hannibal’s warm tongue made Will squirm helplessly as it laved over his nipples, making them stiff peaks and causing the younger’s member to thicken under the ministrations.

Will moaned softly when teeth sank into his stomach muscles, drawing a small amount of blood which Hannibal lapped up enthusiastically as he sucked a bruise onto the skin just above the smile carved permanently into his body.

The dull ache of the memories tied to the white line spiked as he watched the silver-haired man hesitate over it. Hurt and betrayal came to a head like deer antlers piercing both their hearts and suddenly Hannibal was sitting up and settling on the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hand.

Will looked on sadly, unsure of whether to talk. His arousal had already deflated, usually stirred on by tension but now his body was remembering the pain of the rip in his stomach and the blood pouring out onto the tiled floor.

“You’ve never really seen it before, have you?” He asked softly, noticing the way Hannibal tensed up before relaxing and shaking his head.

The younger nodded even though he couldn’t see it, slowly sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed to sit next to him. The scars from a lifetime before Will shattered the glass of his mind as he saw the vivid lines under grey chest hair. When Hannibal didn’t speak, he reached out and touched the hand that wasn’t over his face, trying to get his attention and to comfort him.

“You forgave me. Why?” Pain coursed through the words and Will sighed, hesitant but deciding to settle his head on the man’s shoulder, staring into the space ahead of them.

Imaginary deers and lost time melded together as they considered their past, pain in Will’s stomach like glass shards in his mind as it once was on the floor of Hannibal’s bourgeoisie kitchen, wet with red-rose blood. He was quiet for a moment, remembering every cut, scrape, gunshot and sawing that Hannibal had ever given him. His rejection of his offer to run away and the insult of marrying another in an attempt to take back what Hannibal had stolen and to burn to ashes what Hannibal had given.

The death of Abigail was still vivid in his mind after so many years and it hurt to think of her but Will thought for a moment that if not for her death, he may never have fallen in love with Hannibal. For her to die now made sense. If she hadn’t, maybe they wouldn’t have fought Dolarhyde and maybe they wouldn’t have fallen off the bluff or survived crashing into the waves. But Will regretted that Abigail, the girl he had once cared for like a daughter, didn’t bring tears to his eyes anymore, nor did the thought of her make his heart strain.

Hannibal hadn’t just taken Abigail from the living plane of existence, he’d taken his feelings for her from his heart. Now the ravenette teenager was just a passing memory of a previous love.

Now, because moments with Abigail were ghosts in his mind palace, he could answer Hannibal in a calmer tone.

“You once told me that you believed I was the mongoose you wanted under the house when a snake slid by, and I thought at the time that you believed I was a toughened guard dog skilled at catching the snakes, the killers the FBI were searching for. But now I think that you wanted me to be the mongoose able to fight against you. You’re my snake, and I think you’re still afraid that I’ve defeated you completely.” He didn’t smile but he settled so that his nose was pressed into the crevice of Hannibal’s neck, breathing in the scent of his sweat and the blood of their most recent meal.

The older’s breath hitched under his soft nuzzling, and Will’s hand was squeezed, more to comfort Hannibal than the brunette.

“I never thought that the butterfly I helped to hatch would destroy me, but my perfect mylimasis, you have surprised me with the most gorgeous wings, and you have destroyed me and become my perfect companion all at once. I love you, mongoose under the house.” Hannibal had moved to turn to him and held his hand in both of his, silver hair falling in front of his dark eyes.

Will watched him with careful comfort, his heart beating harder at the eye contact between them.

“Hannibal-”

He was cut off by Hannibal’s mouth on his, rough lips moving on his, not like a predator but soft and gentle like marshmallow melting on a fire. It caught him off guard, despite how plush Hannibal had been with him since they hit the Atlantic, and yet he immediately fell into the man’s embrace like pillows.

When he was moved into a more comfortable position where his head lay on Hannibal’s chest and calloused hands carded through his brown curls, he enjoyed the silence of his peace. Everything caved in like the waves of the black water underneath them, and the weight of the day and the pain of their memories together pulled him back under into sleep.

Hannibal’s hands the lasting moment of his comfort as everything faded to black.


	5. What If We Get Caught?

Will stirred the next morning to the sound of cutlery clattering in the kitchen and Hannibal letting out a string of curse words. There was a bang, then another swear, and suddenly Hannibal was in the bedroom, chest heaving as he stared down at the other. He looked a bit dishevelled.

“You’re awake.”

“I am awake. Are you okay?” The younger stretched out on the bed with his arms above his head before sitting up against the headboard.

The stab wound in his shoulder, still healing, made his arms strain under the weight of his body. Though he was thankful for only dull pain in his jaw. His scars did nothing to take away from the beauty of his eyes though, the curious glint in them clear as day despite the pain the man was in. He wanted to know what Hannibal was doing in the kitchen.

Hannibal took in the length of his partner, his broad shoulders scarred with stabs and bullet wounds that barely touched the smooth white skin. The appearance was still delectable, so delicious that he could slice into the flesh and eat it raw in a beautiful steak tartar. But no… he much preferred this particular being in his exquisite, ethereal form. He didn’t smile at the sight, though, he was much too serious for that.

“I was killing a duck and it bit me before I managed to snap its neck.” He explained, showing off his finger that had nothing on it.

Will stared at him with a straight face, unconvinced.

“A duck or a pig?”

“A duck.”

That made Will crack a smile.

“You got taken down by a duck.”

Hannibal sneered at him, sitting on the bed beside the other man and letting him look at his hand when he grabbed it, inspecting the abused finger.

“There’s nothing wrong with your finger. Don’t be a pussy.”

The older let out a huff through his nostrils, taking his hand back.

“Well, it hurt. I was killing it for dinner this evening, you’re welcome for the effort. I have breakfast ready in the kitchen.” He told him, making Will cross his arms.

“Hannibal, I don’t want to get out of bed. I’m tired.” He complained, pulling the covers up to his shoulder blades and lying back down on the pillow again.

He didn’t particularly want to start living like this, here, in the beautiful, pristine house that he might have to say goodbye to soon. The prospect of having to leave wasn’t one he wanted to entertain, especially not if he grew attached to the comfortable bed and the black marble bathroom. So he turned away from Hannibal under the duvet cover, staying silent and shutting his eyes.

“Will?”

Hannibal sighed when there was no reaction and placed a gentle kiss on the man’s cheek.

“I’ll bring breakfast to bed for you, stubborn mongoose.” He hummed before getting up and leaving for the kitchen.

Will traced the wooden veins on the bedside table which light fingertips. Some small part of him wondered if Molly and Walter were okay. Maybe they thought he was dead, he hoped everyone thought he and Hannibal were dead. He wanted to be left alone with the man, though he knew eventually people would catch on. Their faces were distinctive at this point, probably all over the news after Dolarhyde broke them out of that van. It was only a matter of time before someone reported them.

He let his mind wander to the dogs briefly. Would Molly keep them even though he was gone? Even if he betrayed her? He hoped so. He wanted them to be safe…Brought out of his thoughts by a dip in the surface of the mattress, Will inhaled the scent of cooked meat and potatoes before turning to look at Hannibal with slightly glaring eyes.

“I’m not hungry.” He said, despite the rumble that came from his stomach as he glared.

“Your stomach says otherwise. Sausage, eggs and some hash browns, with a few tomatoes added in for extra nutrients.”

Will rolled his eyes once more, sitting up and taking the tray of food from the man.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t want to get comfortable here.” He replied simply as he took a bite from one of the sausages and relished in the unique taste.

“Because you’re afraid we’ll get caught?”

Will glared at him again, taking another bite of his food and swallowing before he spoke.

“Of course I’m afraid we’ll get caught. They’d separate us in prison, Hannibal. And I saw what it was like for you in that cell. You were like a rat in a cage, even if you had manipulation on your side. I don’t want to end up like that.” He sighed, sipping the coffee that Hannibal had made for him too.

Hannibal nodded slowly, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip as he watched Will eat with dark but sympathetic eyes.

“We will have to leave the country at some point, Mylimasis, there’s no avoiding that. But I won’t let them take you. You won’t do jail time again, I’ll hide you so they never find you or me again. We will beat them.” He reassured, putting his hand on Will’s injured cheek gently and stroking over the bandage that covered it.

Will hesitated under his hand, flinching just slightly. He didn’t want to go to jail but he didn’t want Hannibal to either, and his words had sounded sacrificial.

“I won’t let you go to jail either.”

Hannibal smiled, loving and creepy all in one go.

“Then we’ll protect each other, and we’ll just have to hide really, really well.”


End file.
